 | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
A PRAYER FOR HUMILITY.
O my heart, what must I do!
Shall the self-admiring fiend
Still my helplessness pursue?
Shall his malice never end?
Still the stubborn sin remains,
Still the thorn is in my side,
Still I groan to feel my chains,
Sorely buffeted by pride.
Shall the self-admiring fiend
Still my helplessness pursue?
Shall his malice never end?
79
Still the thorn is in my side,
Still I groan to feel my chains,
Sorely buffeted by pride.
Vanity, the serpent-seed,
Poisoning all my good I find;
Stealing on with silent tread
Vanity lurks close behind;
As the substance by the shade,
Grace I find by pride pursued:
Grace is pride's occasion made,
Evil ever cleaves to good.
Poisoning all my good I find;
Stealing on with silent tread
Vanity lurks close behind;
As the substance by the shade,
Grace I find by pride pursued:
Grace is pride's occasion made,
Evil ever cleaves to good.
Pleased in borrow'd plumes to shine,
Nature arrogates a share,
Mixes in the work Divine,
Bold the Godhead's form to wear;
Proudly in her beauty trusts,
Heavenly charms as hers displays,
Falsely, blasphemously boasts,
Varnish'd, deck'd, and hid by grace.
Nature arrogates a share,
Mixes in the work Divine,
Bold the Godhead's form to wear;
Proudly in her beauty trusts,
Heavenly charms as hers displays,
Falsely, blasphemously boasts,
Varnish'd, deck'd, and hid by grace.
When the boasted grace is gone,
Humbled in the dust I lie;
Poor, forsaken, and alone,
From the deep on God I cry.
Seeing there my loss of God,
Proud I am my loss to see,
Proud to find that I am proud,
Proud of my humility.
Humbled in the dust I lie;
Poor, forsaken, and alone,
From the deep on God I cry.
Seeing there my loss of God,
Proud I am my loss to see,
Proud to find that I am proud,
Proud of my humility.
O the strength of inbred sin!
Who can vanity subdue?
From a creature all unclean
Who can bring a creature new?
Jesu, Lord, all power is Thine,
Nothing is too hard for Thee;
Greater than this heart of mine,
Surely Thou canst humble me.
Who can vanity subdue?
From a creature all unclean
Who can bring a creature new?
80
Nothing is too hard for Thee;
Greater than this heart of mine,
Surely Thou canst humble me.
O, begin; the way prepare:
Pride and unbelief confound:
Far away my fig-leaves tear,
Throughly search my spirit's wound:
Cast me down, and keep me poor,
All my weak supports remove,
Lay the deep foundation sure,
Humble me by faith and love.
Pride and unbelief confound:
Far away my fig-leaves tear,
Throughly search my spirit's wound:
Cast me down, and keep me poor,
All my weak supports remove,
Lay the deep foundation sure,
Humble me by faith and love.
Take my broken reeds away,
Every vain fallacious rest,
All on which my soul I stay,
All that keeps me from Thy breast:
Strip me, empty me of all;
Joyless, cheerless would I be,
So I might on Jesus fall,
Fall, and lose myself in Thee.
Every vain fallacious rest,
All on which my soul I stay,
All that keeps me from Thy breast:
Strip me, empty me of all;
Joyless, cheerless would I be,
So I might on Jesus fall,
Fall, and lose myself in Thee.
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |